


icarus

by TheGatsbyGirl



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Crushes, Hurt/Comfort, If Square won't give Gladio the attention he deserves then I will, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Pre-Canon, RegClar if you squint, Sexuality Crisis, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-07-29 07:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16259177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGatsbyGirl/pseuds/TheGatsbyGirl
Summary: Icarus flew too close to the sun.For Gladio and Ignis, the sun takes many forms.





	1. to combust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He should be fine. Every other Amicitia has been fine. Gladio has been coached and conditioned to do this since before he was born and he’s been doing just fine so far. He should be flying steadily without any trouble at all, there are wings on his back for a reason.  
> But he’s falling, whether he likes it or not."
> 
> Gladio asks for Ignis’ help in dealing with something he doesn’t know how to accept.

Ignis is fire.

  
He burns when he speaks with deliberate, clarion words. He burns when he cooks, slipping into a steady rhythm of cutting and mixing and grilling and topping it all off with a beautiful smile. He burns when he fights, nimble and lightning quick and shockingly adept behind the acne and thick glasses. Fitting that the man called Ignis would use sagefire.

  
He burns now, when he rests his hand over the crownsguard emblem on Gladio’s tank top.

  
Gladio asked if they could talk, and Ignis doesn’t know how to say no. So now they’re both here, sitting on the marble palace floor, Gladio nervously rubbing at his slowly forming tattoo and trying to figure out how to say it.

  
He’s acting stupid. He’s being weak, how dare he be weak, _remember you’re named for a sword, Gladiolus._

  
But he’s also named for a flower. And when flowers touch fire, they burn.

  
“Gladiolus…what is it?”

  
Gladio goes up in flames.

  
“I…I think I’m…not straight.”

  
Ignis’ face shows the briefest bit of surprise, but it’s gone in a second. “Oh? Is that a problem?”

  
“No. It’s just…complicated. Of course there’s nothing wrong with it, but…I’m not supposed to be that.”

_  
You will dedicate your heart, body and soul to the future king. You will dedicate your heart, body and soul to Lucis and only Lucis. There is no room in your heart for outsiders. There is no room in your heart for men._

  
His dad never actually said that, nor would he ever, but the sentiment was still there.

  
The concern in Ignis’ eyes turns them forest dark. “Gladiolus—”

  
“Ignis, I’ve known you since I was ten and I’m having a crisis, d’you think you can finally call me Gladio?”

  
Ignis clears his throat and adjusts his glasses in a way that’s unlawfully cute. “My apologies.”

  
“Don’t apologize. Nothin’ to be sorry for.”

  
Ignis apologizes way too much. It’s a force of habit brought on by the way he’s scolded for being two seconds too late and being too Tenebraean. It’s bullshit, and Ignis goes through _way_ too much of it.

  
Fortunately, Ignis doesn’t try to apologize again. Instead, he smiles. _“Gladio._ As it happens, I am also, as you put it, ‘not straight.’”

  
Gladio tries to kill the bit of hope that he feels. “Really?”

  
Ignis nods.

  
“…Oh.”

  
They sit there in silence, and all Gladio wants to do is kiss him and put this confusion to rest, but he knows that’s stupid, so he keeps his mouth shut and lets Ignis talk.

  
“It must be different for a man of your stature, but I understand the struggle. And if you ever need reassurance…or a guiding hand…I’m here.”

_  
Fuck it._

  
He doesn’t kiss him, but he does pull him into a hug that could strangle a coeurl. “Thanks, Iggy.”

  
Ignis stiffens. “‘Iggy?’”

  
Gladio pulls back. “Sorry. I kinda just—”

  
“No. No, I…” is he _blushing?_ “I like it. I’ve never had a nickname before.” He pries Gladio’s arms back open and falls into them again, rendering Gladio a pile of ash.

  
He should be fine. Every other Amicitia has been fine. Gladio has been coached and conditioned to do this since before he was born and he’s been doing just fine so far. He should be flying steadily without any trouble at all, there are wings on his back for a reason.

  
But he’s falling, whether he likes it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just…man, I love Gladnis. I’ve currently written within canon and post-canon, but I realized I hadn’t done any pre-canon, despite it being one of my favorite FFXV timelines. So now I have.  
> My two ongoing multi-chapter fics/drabble series are sitting un-updated, and I’m here writing this.
> 
> \-------  
> Thank you for reading this. Comments and kudos water my crops!  
> Yell at me on [tumblr](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/TheGatsbyGirl)


	2. to concede

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Somewhere in Insomnia, Gladio is on a date.”
> 
> Ignis has some difficulty digesting this fact, and deals with it in a way that he regrets.

“Are you sure this is wise?”

  
Gladio rolls his eyes. “C’mon, Iggy, it’s just a date, it won’t kill me or anythin.’”

  
“But…do you really like this girl or are you just trying to ignore what we discussed the other evening?”

  
Gladio’s gaze drops, and Ignis has known him long enough to know that he’s still distraught. “I’m not trying to avoid it, I promise. She’s a cute girl, I asked her out, she said yes. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that.”

  
Ignis sighs and pushes up his glasses. “Just…promise me you’re not trying to fuck your feelings away.”

  
Gladio’s eyes widen. “Holy shit. Never thought I’d hear you swear…no, I’m not, but…” There’s a calloused hand on Ignis’ shoulder and he’s looking into two sunsets. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

  
Ignis calls “you’re welcome” as he watches half-finished feathers slowly fade from view.

* * *

Somewhere in Insomnia, Gladio is on a date.

  
Ignis is on his way to His Majesty’s office to properly excuse himself for the night, then he will go home, and Gladio will still be on a date.

  
It doesn’t matter. Really. It’s been another long day and Ignis is just tired and angry that he was shoved in the hallway.

  
He’s about to knock on the door when Lord Amicitia opens it. Ignis freezes. This is ridiculous. Unlike the rest of the council, Lord Amicitia actually treats him like a human being, and he’s never once threatened to raise his hand. He’s in no danger, so why is he nervous?

  
“Evening, Ignis.”

  
Ignis nods stiffly. “Evening, My Lord.”

  
“Are you waiting to see Regis?”

 _  
Regis._ For a second Ignis doesn’t register that Lord Amicitia is referring to His Majesty; he scarcely hears anyone call him by his first name. But the king and his shield are very close. It’s only fitting that he’d call him Regis.

  
“Yes, sir. Just excusing myself for the night.”

  
Lord Amicitia knits his brows the same way Gladio does. “Do you really have to do that?”

  
“Yes, sir.” _Or else,_ he thinks.

  
Lord Amicitia steps aside. “Well, don’t let me stand in your way.”

_  
Your son is on a date._

_  
Your son came out to me last week._

  
Ignis bows his head. “Thank you, My Lord. Have a good night.”

_  
Your son is on a date._

_  
Your son came out to me last week._

_  
I may be infatuated with your son._

* * *

Somewhere in Insomnia, Gladio could be kissing a girl.

  
Of all the thoughts to cross Ignis’ mind while finishing leftover paperwork, it has to be that one.

  
This shouldn’t matter. It _doesn’t_ matter; Gladiolus is a human being, he can do as he pleases. Ignis is nothing but a pizza-faced outsider, he’s no one to stand in Gladio’s way.

_  
You’re his friend. Friends don’t keep their friends from what will make them happy. This girl may make Gladio very happy._

  
They’re probably laughing right now. Gladio is probably holding her hand, his eyes have probably darkened with a question that he doesn’t have to ask because she’s already leaning forward and so is he—

  
“For Six’s sake!”

  
Ignis has no feelings for Gladio. None. He’s just feeling this way because he’s frustrated, he’s overworked, he’s never been kissed and someone out there is getting something Ignis can’t at this very moment.

_  
Go to bed. Uncle won’t like you being up this late, go to bed and pull your head out of the clouds._

  
He folds his clothes, sets down his glasses, and climbs into bed.

  
Maybe they’re lying down like this, looking at the stars together. Maybe they’re lying down like this on Gladio’s couch in front of a television they pay no attention to. Maybe _she’s_ lying down like this and Gladio is on top of her—

  
No. _No._ Ignis was _not_ going to think about this. It’s impractical on every level, from scheduling conflicts to textbook unworthiness on his part. Gladio is of noble birth. Gladio is a coworker. Foolish boy.

_  
Foolish boy. Leave the young Lord Amicitia out of your Niff mind. Foolish boy. Tend to the prince and go, or else you’ll wish you had._

  
He tries. Oh, how he tries to curl onto his side and not think about his friend and his date any further.

  
He does something worse instead.

  
In real life, Gladio probably doesn’t ask.

  
But Ignis likes to pretend he does.

_  
Can I kiss you?_

_  
Ignis tries to say “yes please” but all that comes out is a choked breath, so all he can do is nod. Gladio’s lips are feather light. He doesn’t try to shove his tongue down Ignis’ throat. He doesn’t try to worm his way into Ignis’ pants. He just…kisses him._

_  
Gladio breathes butterflies into Ignis’ stomach. He pulls away for a moment, pupils eclipsing his irises, and he says “wow.” Ignis agrees with that sentiment._

_  
This next time it’s Ignis who makes the first move. He kisses Gladiolus Amicitia,_ he actually kisses Gladiolus Amicitia, _and Gladiolus kisses back. His lips part slightly, moving Ignis’ along with them to make way for the slightest press of a tongue._

_  
Oh…it’s good, it’s very good, and Gladio’s hands find purchase on his hips only to pull Ignis into his lap. Their chests touch, the hips beneath him shift, the tongue grows bolder._

_  
“You’re so hot,” he whispers._

_  
Ignis has half a mind to retort, but Gladio’s lips are having none of it. He sucks on Ignis’ neck, pulling a strangled moan from him and sending a shockwave of arousal directly to his groin._

_  
“Gladio…”_

_  
“Do you want me to stop?”_

_  
Ignis flushes. They really should. But Ignis is so sick of ignoring what he wants. There aren’t any lords here to tell him that he’s lower than dirt, and there aren’t any tutors here who will slap him on the wrist if he requests to learn more._

  
Ignis hates himself as he reaches down and wishes that the fingers curling around his cock weren’t his own.

_  
“Touch me. Please.”_

_  
Gladio growls and kisses Ignis with more heat than efficiency. But the press of his tongue and the hand snaking down his torso more than makes up for it. Gladio unbuttons his fly. He pulls down Ignis’ briefs._

_  
He touches him._

  
Ignis muffles his moan with a free hand clapped over his mouth. He presses his cock hard against his belly to simulate callouses against his flesh, and the effort sends a bead of precum dribbling from his head. Up and over his head, down a vein to the base. Up, down. Up, down. Just get it over with.

 _  
Gladio’s hand is skilled and steady, stroking Ignis from root to tip and experimenting with pressure along the way. “Fuck, Iggy, I…” Gladio fiddles with his jeans until his fly is open too, and the sizeable tent in his boxers makes Ignis gasp. He dares to reach for the waistband, then Gladio takes them both in hand_ _and kneads, warm, rough, throbbing,_ yes _._

  
Hand still covering his mouth, Ignis’ hips buck into his grip erratically. His cock is slippery and aching faster, so fast his fist is shaking, _faster…_

_  
“Faster, please,” Ignis breathes. Gladio is quick to obey, both faster and quicker, Astrals, he feels so good._

_  
“Iggy, I’m close.” Ignis takes the words from Gladio’s mouth with another kiss thats blessedly wet._

_  
“Me too,” he mumbles. “Help me get there?”_

_  
As warm liquid spills between their cocks, Ignis lets go._

  
He lets go, and he’s still in his bedroom, hating himself more than ever. But lusting over your best friend is a bit better than the alternative.

  
Liking him, that is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um…quickest update I’ve ever made??? HELL YEAH.  
> The fic might seem like it’s moving pretty quickly, but we can’t have that. It’s not a GatsbyGirl fic without slow burn crowbarred in somewhere.  
> For clarification’s sake, Gladio is 18, Ignis is 17. In the area where I live, they are both over the age of consent.
> 
> \-------  
> Thank you for reading this. Comments and kudos water my crops!  
> Yell at me on [tumblr](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/TheGatsbyGirl)


	3. to imprint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This tattoo is a big deal. It’s literally big, bigger than any other shield tattoo according to Cor, but more importantly, it’s his shield tattoo. It’s the marker of everything his life has been building up to. And Ignis is touching it. Somehow, he’s a part of it.  
> And somehow, that makes the lines of ink mean so much more.”
> 
> Gladio grapples with an itch, a text, and an encounter.

This is ridiculous.

  
Gladio never got social anxiety. Interacting with people came naturally, so much so that he often felt strange when _not_ making smalltalk. And yet he’s freaking the fuck out because Ignis didn’t respond to his text within three minutes of sending it.

  
The text wasn’t anything urgent, just a casual “I’m dying” to hopefully initiate some conversation with his friend. It’s not totally a lie either; two weeks after Gladio’s latest tattoo session, a patch of feathers on his back is now fully shaded. And scabbing. And he can’t reach it. There’s not even anyone who can help him moisturize. Iris is at a friend’s house and he doesn’t like asking Jared to do more than he has to, and Dad…well, he’s been making himself scarce around his father because of the not straight thing. So Dad is off the table.

  
Gladio knew this would happen. It happened when he got the outlines done (much to his father’s shock and dismay,) it happened when his shoulders got filled in, and it’s happening now. Carmen liked his tattoo. She said so the other night; said he had guts to get one so big and detailed. He thanked her, they flirted more. She was a good kisser.

  
He wanted to kiss someone else.

  
And now he’s back to worrying about why Iggy hasn’t answered him. _Worrying for no reason,_ he thinks. _It’s nothing. Iggy is a busy guy. He’s at a meeting. He’s doing an errand. His phone died. Maybe he got the text and just doesn’t feel like responding, that’s totally fine. Absolutely fine._

_  
He doesn’t want to be your friend anymore._

  
The thought sends a cold dread through Gladio’s chest that he immediately begins to combat. _Who cares? It’s not like I like him or anything (you liar, you fucking liar.)_ The itch creeps all over his back. It creeps everywhere he can’t reach; his back, his brain, his stupid fucking heart.

  
He needs a cigarette.

  
Gladio doesn’t smoke because of Ignis. If anyone, he smokes because of Noct. He knows that it’s terrible for him, and he knows that it won’t do his already too-deep voice any favors, but smoking undeniably helps him with stress. And Gladio has limits. He never smokes around Noct or Iggy or (Astrals forbid) his family. He only smokes outside the house. He never has more than three cigarettes a day, and most days he doesn’t even have time for one.

  
Yeah, it’s unhealthy. But it could be a lot worse.

  
He’s about to grab the pack of Mako lights from under his mattress when his phone vibrates.

  
It’s Iggy.

**  
(Iggy, 01/24, 5:06 pm): oh dear, what’s the cause of death**

  
He sort of freaks out. Just a little bit. But Gladio still manages to respond.

**  
(Gladio, 01/24, 5:07 pm): tattoo. It itches and I can’t reach it**

**  
(Iggy, 01/24, 5:09 pm): if only there was someone to scratch it for you**

**  
(Gladio, 01/24, 5:09 pm): is that an offer? ;)**

  
He hits send before thinking, and almost screams when he actually reads what he sent. A winky face. A shitting _winky face._ End him now.

**  
(Iggy, 01/24, 5:13 pm): well I am known to have skilled hands**

  
Holy shit. _Holy shit._ Was that…did Iggy just flirt with him?

  
Iggy wouldn’t brag even if he could. Normally he’d chide Gladio for being facetious and tell him all about the piles of work he had to do. But now…that felt a lot like flirting. Gladio’s hands start to shake. He might just be reading too much into it, but he can’t stop himself at this point.

 **  
** **(Gladio, 01/24, 5:15 pm): need a lab rat?**

  
**(Iggy, 01/24, 5:19 pm): More like a lab behemoth in your case**  
**(Iggy, 01/24, 5:20 pm): But yes, some company would be nice**

  
**(Gladio, 01/24, 5:22 pm): would you want to come over?**

  
It’s not a big deal. He just asked his friend if he wants to hang out. The worst thing that he can do is say no.

**  
(Iggy, 01/24, 5:24 pm:) I’ll be over in 20 minutes**

* * *

Iggy arrives at the Amicitia manor while the sky is getting ready for sunset. He’s kind enough to knock on Gladio’s bedroom door before entering, and Gladio opens it wearing nothing but a pair of black jeans.

  
“Hey,” Gladio says. “How you doin?’”

  
Iggy doesn’t immediately answer. His face looks tight for a moment, like he’s holding something in. Then he smiles. “Well, thanks. Yourself?”

  
“Fine. Mostly.”

  
Iggy motions to Gladio’s arms and steps into his room. “Your tattoo?”

  
“Yeah. In stage two of recovery, which means itchin.’ Normally that’s an easy fix, but I can’t reach on my own. That’s why I ain’t wearing a shirt.”

  
“As if you need a reason to not wear a shirt.”

  
They share a laugh, then sit on his bed for a while without saying anything. Iggy looks nervous, and that’s starting to make Gladio nervous. Is he making him uncomfortable? Does he want to leave? Should he break the silence?

  
Iggy breaks it before Gladio can think of something to say. “Would you like me to help?”

  
“Um…what?”

  
“Do you need some sort of massage?”

 _  
Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush._ “No, I—I mean, I have lotion, but you don’t have to—”

  
“It’s fine, Gladio. Where’s your lotion?”

  
Gladio points to the container on his bedside table, and Iggy grabs it. Then he takes off his gloves and Gladio almost faints on the spot.

  
He can’t remember if he’s ever seen Ignis’ hands, but they’re as gorgeous as he is. Slender fingers, smooth skin, perfectly groomed nails. The kind of hands that he’ll be thinking about for a long time.

  
“You’re supposed to put the lotion directly on the skin and lightly rub it. No scratching or else the ink might get fucked up.”

  
Gladio hears an “mmhmm” as Iggy presses the cool substance onto his back. _He’s touching me._ Iggy’s hands are, true to his word, as skilled as they are beautiful. The coolness on his skin is so relieving that Gladio sighs, adding embarrassment to the long list of emotions running through him. This tattoo is a big deal. It’s literally big, bigger than any other shield tattoo according to Cor, but more importantly, it’s his shield tattoo. It’s the marker of everything his life has been building up to. And Ignis is touching it. Somehow, he’s a part of it.

  
And somehow, that makes the lines of ink mean so much more.

* * *

Iggy leaves after another amazing hour.

  
They talk about literature, and Iggy actually listens when Gladio goes off on a ten-minute tangent about Henruit’s metaphors. They debate different methods of getting Noct to eat vegetables. Iggy asks for the time, and he’s surprised to learn that Gladio wears an analog watch. He declines Gladio’s offer to stay for dinner, but he does agree to stay next time, which means there could be a next time. He thanks Gladio for inviting him over and Gladio thanks him for help with his back. He smiles and the curve of his lip turns Gladio’s world upside down. He leaves.

  
Then Gladio fucks up the whole night.

  
He pads downstairs to the front door and exits the house until he’s a few feet down the driveway. Iris is asleep and Jared went home, so he’s in no danger of being caught when he lights a cigarette and takes a drag. The taste burns a bit at first, but it quickly turns to relief as he exhales into the autumn night.

  
“Gladiolus?”

  
Relief immediately becomes panic as Gladio turns to find himself face-to-face with his father. Astrals, he’s going to die.

  
“You smoke.”

  
“Uh…kinda, yeah.”

  
Dad raises his eyebrows. “‘Kinda?’ How does one ‘kinda’ smoke?”

  
“I don’t do it very often.”

  
“Well, try to quit. It’s unsavory.”

  
Gladio sighs smoke and drops the cigarette. “Yes, sir.”

  
This is the longest conversation they’ve had in days. Gladio misses talking to his dad more than he’d care to admit, but talking to him now is like torture. Because he’s not the son he thought he was, he’s not the son his father wants him to be.

  
It’s dark, but Gladio can still see Dad’s eyes cloud with worry. “Gladiolus…are you okay?”

_  
I don’t know who I am anymore._

  
“I’m fine, dad.”

  
He’ll tell him once he’s figured this shit out, but for now, he grinds it into the ground like a long-extinguished cigarette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always wanted to write Iggy with Gladio’s tattoo. Fall in New England is a pretty but lonely time, so I’m glad to have written a little bit of cheer. But only a little bit because angst.
> 
> \-------  
> Thank you for reading this. Comments and kudos water my crops!  
> Yell at me on [tumblr](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/TheGatsbyGirl)


	4. to dissolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This isn’t what he wanted. He wanted his father to be there on his own terms, to leave King Regis alone for just one moment and ask Gladio why he’s been so distant. Instead, his dad is only here because his son punched the wall after having an overly romantic wet dream about his best friend.”
> 
> Gladio starts to lose control.

_“Kiss me.”_

_  
Gladio happily obliges, and Iggy’s lips are so soft they’re almost unreal._

_  
Well, they are unreal. Gladio is too weak to do this in real life._

_  
Iggy is plush and pliant. His mouth is perfectly wet, his skin is perfectly warm. Just a bit of tongue; he doesn’t want to scare Ignis off. For a moment he’s afraid that he has when Iggy pulls away, but his hand cups Gladio’s cheek, proving he has no need for fear._

_  
“So…” Iggy almost whispers, “are we…more?”_

_  
Gladio blinks. “I’d…Iggy, we can be whatever you want us to be.”_

_  
Iggy takes off his glasses (how is it possible for him to look so good with them_ and _without them) and he slides into Gladio’s lap, sending his heart racing far too fast._

_  
“If we could be more, that’d be wonderful.”_

_  
The kiss to his neck is lighter than a breath. “I like you, Gladio…” his next kiss is harder and it’s so good Gladio can barely speak._

_  
“I like you too.”_

_  
It’s nice to pretend he likes him. Ignis can somehow make the time for him that his dad can’t. Ignis thinks he’s more than the oversexed bulletproof vest everyone sees him as._

_  
Ignis is hard for him._

_  
Gladio is halfway there. He’s harder than he usually gets in situations like this, but who can blame him when Iggy is looking at him with a gaze he never thought he’d see._

_  
“We don’t…if you don’t want to we don’t have to do anything.”_

_  
“I know,” Iggy says, lashes unbelievably long, “perhaps we could just…do what feels right?”_

_  
Gladio nods and rolls his hips forward. Gods, his heart is beating so fast. He feels like a virgin again._

_  
“You feel awfully nice,” Iggy whispers, clawing at the feathers on Gladio’s shoulders._

_  
“You too_ …Fuck… _Iggy, I really like you.” He’s thrusting, he’s taking his gloves off, he’s touching Gladio’s chest and his hands are so beautiful._

_  
“More, please.”_

_  
Gladio bites his lip, bucks up roughly and receives another moan from Iggy that makes him buck again. The throb of Iggy’s cock against his own sends precum leaking through his pants, eyes fluttering shut. They move against each other as the friction grows and when Gladio opens his eyes Iggy is barely there._

_  
He’s fading. It’s not fair, why can’t he just have this…_

_  
The pleasure reaches it brightest just as Iggy speaks. “Go out with me?”_

  
He opens his eyes before he can say yes.

  
Disappointment quickly turns to anger when Gladio shifts and realizes his boxers are wet.

  
“Damnit!”

  
He’s slammed his fist into the wall before remembering that it’s 6:26 am. Fan fucking tastic, now he’s gone and woken up the whole house. Not two seconds later his hand is throbbing and there are footsteps coming towards his door. Would it be impractical to hide under the bed or sneak out the window?

  
No. It would be stupid. Cowardly, even. Gladio can’t let himself be more of a coward than he already is.

  
Three knocks sound on the door. “Gladiolus? Everything alright in there?”

  
Gladio’s heart drops. This isn’t what he wanted. He wanted his father to be there on his own terms, to leave King Regis alone for just one moment and ask Gladio why he’s been so distant. Instead, his dad is only here because his son punched the wall after having an overly romantic wet dream about his best friend.

  
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just go back to bed.”

  
His dad doesn’t oblige, opening the door and looking at him with an expression that Gladio can’t see in the dark.“What’s going on?”

  
Gladio shrugs. “Nothing.” He needs to stop lying; he isn’t any good at it, and Dad can probably tell.

  
Dad’s shoulders tense and he looks to the right. Shit. He saw it. “Six, did you break the wall?”

  
“No.” Not really. The wall is intact, there’s just a fist-shaped dent in it. “Does it look broken to you?”

  
He can barely make out Dad’s frown, but he can tell it’s a deep one. “It does, as a matter of fact, and I really don’t like this lip.”

  
“Whatever, just leave me alone.”

  
“If there’s any damage I expect you to fix—”

  
“Dad…just leave. Go tend to Regis or something.”

  
“Address your king with respect, Gladiolus.”

  
For fuck’s sake. Even now he can’t spare a second to focus on anything else. “You call him Regis all the time but you can’t call me Gladio?”

  
Dad doesn’t say anything.

  
“Leave.”

  
There’s a lump in his throat by the time his dad finally leaves, and it breaks the surface once he’s out the door. He wants someone he can’t have, he doesn’t know who or what he is, he can’t talk about it to anyone except the person he can’t have, he can’t be his father’s son anymore, and there’s a dent in his fucking bedroom wall.

  
Gladio sobs as his door creaks open.

  
“Gladdy?”

  
Oh. It’s Iris.

  
He wipes the tears from his eyes as she steps inside with her moogle plushie. “Hey, babygirl.”

  
“Are you sad?”

  
Gladio’s eyes drop. “A little bit. But it’s okay, moogs, you don’t have to worry about me.”

  
Iris takes a step forward. “But Daddy got mad! What happened?”

  
Gladio holds out an arm to his sister and she sits on the bed underneath it. “It’s not really his fault. I’m…going through something and I don’t know how to tell him about it.”

  
Iris wraps her arms around Gladio’s waist and rests her head on his chest. “What is it?”

  
This hurts a lot more than he expected it would. Gladio is usually honest with his father, sure, but this is the first time he’s kept a secret from Iris since he can remember.

  
“Not quite there yet. I’ll tell you soon, okay?”

  
Gladio plays with her hair and tells her to go to sleep. Iris protests, but she’s out like a light in a few minutes and Gladio isn’t far behind her, sinking into a sleep that he hopes will be dreamless.

* * *

The next day is another complicated mess.

  
He trains with Noct and just doesn’t have it in him to be a good shield. He lets Noct win. He passes his dad in the hallway with a few other council members and hears something along the lines of a “phase.” Yeah, Gladio hopes its a phase too.

  
He hears some glaives talking about a run-in with “the pissant from Tenebrae” and almost breaks another wall. Of all people the fucking _glaives_ are shitting on outsiders?

  
Gladio manages to sneak outside the bottom floor of the Citadel. It’s not as far from the premises as he’d like, but it will do fine. He just needs his fix.

  
For the first time in almost two years, Gladio smokes more than one cigarette in one day. He goes through the first one quickly, lighting another one as he’s grinding the butt into the concrete. Who fucking cares if his lungs are going to pay, Gladio came in his pants last night and damaged his house. He has nothing left to lose.

  
“I didn’t know you smoked.”

  
No.

  
Oh please gods no.

  
It’s Iggy, wearing a sleek black coat and standing a few feet away from him, watching him do the thing that no one is supposed to know about.

  
“I don’t.”

  
Iggy raises a brow and Gladio wishes he could fade into nothing.

  
“Well, not really. Not—I’m trying to quit.”

  
“May I ask why?” Damnit, he has no right sounding so smooth when everything is going wrong.

  
Gladio looks down at his feet. “Mostly stress. When I was younger there was a lot on my mind and I wanted a reliever. And…my life is kind of falling apart.”

  
Iggy’s eyes darken with concern.

  
“Last night I snapped at my dad and now he hates me, and if I come out then I don’t know what he’ll do. And I don’t know how to come out because I don’t even know what I am.”

  
Iggy steps closer. It’s just a step, not even closer than they’ve been in the past, but Gladio is still reeling from his dream and the memory of those hands on his back. And he’s smiling with beautiful, perfect teeth barely covering the top of a beautiful, perfect tongue and _fucking Six Gladio_ focus.

  
“Perhaps some company would be helpful. If you’re done.”

  
Gladio takes one more drag, trying (unsuccessfully) to exhale the butterflies along with the smoke, and then Iggy is standing by his shoulder and reaching for his fucking hand.

  
“Lord Amicitia is a good man. He’ll understand.”

  
Gladio doesn’t know how true that is, but Iggy is trying, and that’s what matters. “Thanks, Ig. Means the world.”

  
Iggy squeezes his hand, and that’s enough for Gladio. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't keep the alternating POV format with this chapter, but every time I tried to write a chapter from Ignis' perspective it didn't flow right. Hopefully I'll be able to write him again for the next one. Also wow, first published work of 2019!  
> \-------  
> Thank you for reading this. Comments and kudos water my crops!  
> Yell at me on [tumblr](http://kataruhh.tumblr.com) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/TheGatsbyGirl)


End file.
